Flowers
by Asuhole
Summary: 'I've missed you so much,' he says in honesty, and his breath is warm against Killua's throat.


I suggest you to settle the reading format as 1/2 for a better reading experience.

Flower boys are the best kind of boys.

* * *

The weather is nice here, thinks Killua.

He lies in the high grass with his head resting on the shins of his arms, his blue eyes gazing along the seemingly endless sky.

Whale Island is a nice place to be, he subsequently offers to himself, a small smile settling upon his lips as he takes a big inhale through his nose, smelling the salt from the sea mingled with humidity from the vigorous forests. The wind picks up its speed and makes his silver bangs flutter in the wind restlessly. His hair has grown longer throughout the years, reaching his shoulders now, although it remains spiky in the top, the fuzzy locks framing his face in a boyish way.

He closes his eyes and listens to the music of the bugs buzzing around.

A shadow is cast upon him a little later, darkness appearing under his eyelids, which makes him open his eyes to look at the person interrupting his daydreaming. He blinks haphazardly.

''Gon,'' he mutters, welcoming the boy who stands above him, his feet next to each side of Killua's hips. ''Killua,'' is all Gon says, offering him a bright smile that reaches his eyes easily.

''I thought you were going to help Mito with cleaning,'' Killua hums, smirking unctuously up at the other boy. ''You know she's going to kill you if she notices that you've snuck out.'' The lopsided smile does not fade from his lips as he speaks, eyeing Gon in a challenging matter.

Gon only but chuckles, shaking his head. ''Mito said I could go,'' he sits down next to Killua with a soft oomph, settling to lie next to him. He turns his head to look into Killua's eyes as he continues, ''so I thought I'd join you here.''

Something ticklish settles in the pit of Killua's stomach, but he ignores it adamantly and refrains from turning his head to look Gon in the eyes.

''I'm glad you came here,'' Gon says after a while, fiddling with some blades of grass he has plucked next to him. Killua can feel his eyes on him all the while.

''Yeah,'' he says, his mouth feeling dry. ''I'm glad I'm here, too'' he then says and somehow surprises himself by how easy it is to say. It is as if the words force themselves between his lips like a certain need that cannot be suppressed.

''It's been a long time,'' Gon continues, and he raises his torso to look out at the sea, which the hill that they sit upon gives a great view of.

''It has,'' is all Killua contributes with, although his voice sounds as if muffled.

''How old are you now?'' Gon mindlessly plucks some more blades of grass and squeezes them between his fingers, then sorts them in two bundles in each hand, rolling them from hand to hand.

''Sixteen, but I'm turning seventeen soon,'' Killua says. That means that Gon has already turned seventeen, he thinks. The broad shoulders in his view seems a little stranger, a little less familiar. Nothing alike those shoulders belonging to a twelve-year old he saw the first time at the hunter exam years ago.

Gon does not say anything after that, and Killua cannot see what he is doing, but only hear the strain of whenever more grass is plucked, among other plants - a squeaky noise appearing sometimes when Gon rubs his fingers against the blades.

The silence stretches far longer than what Killua has expected, and at last he makes an impatient noise and lifts himself a tad, using his elbows as leverage to look at what Gon is doing.

Gon notices this and shies away, shielding his front with his broad shoulders as he laments that Killua shall stay where he is, and that he is not done yet.

''Done doing what?'' Killua tuts, becoming curious.

He raises himself and sits on his shins, crawling forward, trying to look past Gon's shoulder. Gon jerks at this, screeching a; ''No fair, Killua!'' in a complaining tone, sounding childish as ever. He is smiling all the while and turns his back to Killua again, inching forward and further away from him.

''Fine,'' Killua sighs with a faked indignant tone, settling to sit with his legs spread as he licks his lips and gazes at the nature surrounding them.

His eyes catches a little flower dancing in the wind – a fine daisy, small, yet prominent and protruding between the high grasses. For some strange reason, it reminds him of Gon. It looks as if shining, and reminds him of the sun – the white petals being the rays framing the core. It is bright and somehow innocent, and still simple but beautiful.

Without any further thought, he plucks it delicately – very hesitantly, as if his fingers are meant for such a gentle action. He holds it cautiously between his fingers and watches the wind take in it, the petals fluttering calmly.

Minutes later, Gon turns around with a merry expression on his face – ''Killua, look-'', only to find Killua dazed off, eyes fixated on a little flower held at the stalk between two of his fingers.

''Killua?''

Killua snaps out of his daze and blinks his eyes repeatedly, looking startled. At first he only but looks at the expression covering Gon's features, until his eyes notices the object held in his hands.

Gon inches forward on his knees and shins, huddling between Killua's spread legs, which makes Killua sputter and widen his eyes in perplexity. ''Killua, I made this for you,'' Gon yaps excitedly, looking proud of his doing. He holds up something round – a crown made out of the bundles of grasses. There are also pastel blue windflowers nestled here and there, resulting a flower crown altogether.

''I know you're going to think it's silly,'' Gon chuckles, even while puffing his cheeks as if knowing how Killua will mock him, ''but the flowers reminds me of you, somehow.''

Something inside Killua's chest tightens, and he turns his cheek to Gon hastily, glaring the other way – any other way than where Gon is – his bright amber eyes, his overwhelming smile and fond look. He is too bright for him to look at, much more important – incredibly light and warm, Killua thinks.

Heat prickles along his cheeks, and he has to hide this flusterment – he can barely accept its presence itself, tries to shy away so that it will not be seen. However, Gon follows suit, huddling between his legs again so very innocently, as always.

Killua jabs a hand onto his own mouth and cheeks to cover the blush, still looking anywhere else than at Gon.

Gon continues, though, and leans forward, still smiling - because he has seen this reaction of Killua before, and knows what it means. ''Windflowers are pretty strong,'' he explains, softly – ''they look fragile, but can stay upright even during wintertime.''

Gon pauses.

''And they're also very beautiful,'' he adds.

Killua turns his head to look at him in a quick snap, only his eyes visible, and the rest hidden underneath his hand. His lips wobbles underneath the hand, trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

''Would you wear it?'' Gon closes in on the other boy again, now so close that his knees are touching the underside of Killua's thighs.

Before Gon can say anything, Killua darts his hand between them quickly – Gon thinking that he is about to be pushed away, only to be surprised when nothing happens. Killua only stretches his arm a little far – just right between them – with the daisy in his hand, indicating for Gon to take it.

''Here,'' he mutters against his own hand, tilting his head the other way, yet his eyes are still on the dark haired boy.

''It reminds me of you,'' he says – quickly – barely a whisper, huffing quietly under his breath.

Gon eyes the daisy in silence, mouth shaped like a little o, as in awe. Then the rest comes, the thing Killua loves the most – when dimples shape on his tanned cheeks and he bares his smile in a hearty grin, so bright that Killua thinks he has to look the other way in order not to get blinded.

Killua then feels a gentle tug in his hair and something being placed there, Gon's fingers carding through the locks as he places the flower crown upon his head a little carelessly. He is almost too excited. Afterwards, he takes the daisy gently, holding it up in front of him, close to his face – observing it budge and swish in the wind.

''Thank you, Killua,'' he hums, sounding pleased.

Killua mutters something Gon does not hear and picks the flower from Gon's hands just as quick as he has given it.

He places the flower just behind Gon's ear. It is only a bit visible, but still there, even if Gon's hair has grown too and covers a bit of it, budged at the front as he has gotten bangs there and locks cascading down his neck, not spiky anymore but just wild and fuzzy.

''The daisy is innocent, and looks like the sun – bright…,'' Killua whispers, the blush covering even a bit of his throat as well by now, ''- too bright... it's simple, but beautiful.''

''I didn't hear the last part,'' Gon muses, lifting his brows.

''I—You heard me, idiot,'' Killua sputters and makes a tsk'ing noise, his lips quivering.

This makes Gon laugh aloud, and suddenly Killua is covered in a warm embrace as Gon tackles him to the ground, burying his face in the crook of Killua's neck.

''I've missed you so much,'' he says in honesty, and his breath is warm against Killua's throat.

Gon raises himself on his elbows to look at Killua, whose eyes look vulnerable and a bit glazed, a blush extended along his cheeks in a way Gon finds adorable.

Without any further thought, he leans forward and down, pressing his lips gently against Killua's. It is a light and innocent action. Killua tenses up underneath him, not moving an inch. When Gon tries to detach himself again, Killua holds him by his bicep and makes him stay.

Killua closes the distance between them this time, kissing Gon with more force than necessary so that Gon nearly backs away in surprise.

When they part again, Killua makes a noise, like a little plea – and his blue eyes are still glazed as he brings Gon into another hug, this time being the one to bury his face in the others´ shoulder.

''I've missed you too,'' he says, sounding relieved.

Gon runs a hand along Killua's spine and the other one up to tangle in the white locks, petting him gently.

Everything feels warm and natural, like two best friends reuniting.

Like two lovers finding ones hands again.


End file.
